A Pirate's Ransom (18 page)

“Despite his devious plan, Captain Teach was very kind to me. Although his appearance is quite fearsome, after a while I no longer feared him. My only fear was what my treatment would be once I was sold at the auction.”

“I was frantic at the very thought of it. I would have killed him with my bare hands if I had found ...” His voice trailed off and his jaw tightened.

“Husband, do tell, how did you come to know what the highest bid would be?”

“I didn’t. Because I knew my face would be recognized by Blackbeard, I was forced to send Mister Beckett in as the emissary of the Duke. As you may recall, he submitted a sealed bid.”

“I was so nervous that night fearing my fate after the outcome that I hardly recall much of the evening’s activities. Yet I do seem to have a vague memory of hearing the mention of a sealed bid.”

“In it, I promised Blackbeard that should Mister Beckett not prevail in winning the bid, the emissary of the Duke was prepared to pay double the amount of the highest bid of the night in order to win the prize.”

“Indeed a ransom.”

“And worth every penny, I might add.”

I rested my head against his heart, as he swirled me around the room.
I must be dreaming
. I closed my eyes, listening to the strains of the waltz, and the steady beating of my husband’s heart. My thoughts were interrupted by the rich laughter of the Contessa, which brought a smile to my lips. For all of her flamboyance and quick temper, she had managed to steal a place in my heart.

“Edmund, how is it the Contessa came to be with my father?”

“After we had taken Blackbeard, we raided his hideout and found her there. She begged asylum, so we took her with us. I knew your father was aboard the ship coming to London. I merely saw to it she was on the same ship and let nature take its course.”

I allowed him to swirl me around the room and grew thoughtful.

“What troubles you, wife?”

I smiled. “
Wife
. I like the sound of that.”

“As do I, yet I will not abide my beautiful wife to carry concerns.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell me, then.”

“I wonder how it is you are known as Edmund Drake, when you are in fact Edmund Simmons?”

“Allow me put your curious mind at ease, wife. My mother was Victoria Drake Simmons. Drake seemed the most logical choice when I became estranged from my father. I harbored such anger for so many years it pained me to be called Simmons.”

“It all makes sense now.” I grew silent for a moment and then continued. “I’m thankful you and your father reconciled your differences before his death.”

“As am I. Not only did I regain my father and my title, but I gained a beautiful bride as well.”

He danced me around the room in silence, holding me tightly. I closed my eyes and relished the feeling of being in his arms. My mind returned to the days I spent at Hartington House, awaiting the arrival of my father and my marriage to the Duke. A smile curled my lips as I recalled the empty cup of cocoa in my room.

“Edmund, was it you who enjoyed my hot cocoa in my chamber at Hartington House every night?”

“Ah, you have found me out, wife. I couldn’t stay away from you. I recalled the nights I watched you sleep when aboard
The Lady Victoria
and allowed myself the same privilege while you were a guest in my home.”

“It wasn’t a dream then that night I awoke on the ship? You were in the cabin, watching me sleep. Oh, Edmund, you dreadful beast,” I teased.

“Even then, I couldn’t stay away from you. Catherine, my love, will you ever forgive me for what I have put you through?” He brought my hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss upon my knuckles as the music softened and the dance drew to an end.

“Husband, I shall allow you the remainder of your days to make it up to me.”

Even though the music had stopped, he held me close and gazed into my eyes. The conversations and laughter of our family and friends embraced me, and my heart fluttered.

“Now, my beautiful Duchess, now that I have married and am settling down, perhaps we should retire to our chambers to start working on that brood of children you once suggested.” His whisper sent a thrill through me, and I smiled up at him.

“It would be my pleasure, husband, but would you kindly allow me a few moments to ready myself.”

“Certainly, my love. You go on ahead, and I shall join you once I have made our excuses to our guests and bid them all a good night.”

When I reached our bedchamber, I was surprised to find the Contessa waiting for me.

“My little’a stick,” she said and pulled me into her embrace. “I can hardly believe you a married woman.”

“Me, either. Oh, Contessa, I am so happy you are here with me,” I said, and I meant it with all my heart.

“I have a little something for you.”

She led me to the wardrobe cabinet and removed a sheer white lace garment, similar to the black one she had worn the night I sat hidden behind the curtain in her chamber.

“I also bring you something else, and I hope they survived the trip.”

She hurried to the bathing chamber and when she returned, she held an arm full of blood red roses.

“If a man no hungry, he no eat, no matter if that man is a Duke or no.”

I giggled and, smiling, gave her a hug.

She tore the petals from the roses, and I lit the candles making the room ready, just as she did that night I helped her at the hideout. After aiding me out of my wedding gown and into the gossamer garment, she placed a kiss upon my cheek and said, “I know you finally happy. Now, use what I teach you to make that husband of yours happy.” And she swept from the room in a swirl of skirts and fragrance.

Lying there in the center of the bed, in a pool of blood-red rose petals, butterflies danced in my stomach. But any thoughts of nervousness vanished when the door opened, and Edmund entered the room. He had already shed his dark coat, and making his way to the bed, tossed his shirt among the scattered rose petals along the floor. Standing beside the bed his gaze roamed over me.

“One of us is very much over-dressed, Madam, but I shall remedy that.”

I giggled at his comment.

Sitting on the edge of the satin coverlet, he removed his boots and trousers and I marveled at the beauty of his strong and perfect body.

When he took me in his arms and brought his burning kiss to my lips, the heat of deep desire flowed through me.

Although we had made love that night at the ball, savagely, urgently, hungrily, tonight felt like it was our first time ... our beginning. He seemed much like a nervous lad, and I felt the sting of a blush at the thought.

His tongue ran over my lips and my mouth yielded to him, his tongue exploring its depths, dancing sensually and slowly with mine. His hands slowly drifted to the shoulders of the lace garment I wore, and he tenderly slipped it from me. His lips followed his hands, leaving a trail of warm, wet, kisses along my neck. His warm hand cupped my breast as he gently sucked my nipple into the hot depths of his mouth. Already panting with need, I ran my hands through his hair, gently encouraging him to continue.

He raised his head to look at me. “Catherine, this night, let us not hurry. Allow me to worship your body, to give you the pleasure you surely deserve,” he whispered as he ran one hand down to caress the dampness between my legs. I whimpered when he stroked me gently. His soft lips moved from my breast and followed the trail of his hand. He planted warm kisses down my body, stopping only a few moments as he licked his way down to my navel. With one hand, he gently rolled a taunt nipple between his fingers, while with the other he rolled the throbbing bud between my legs.

My hands stroked his shoulders and played in his hair, while his head moved lower along my body. I quivered in anticipation.

The hand that had been lavishing attention to my breast now traveled slowly down the length of me, his touch igniting a fire at each caress. He moved lower and nestling between my legs brought his kisses closer to the heat of my core. I felt his warm breath against the soft hair at the vee between my legs. His fingers continued to taunt my bud, and I squirmed with the thought of what he was about to do. He drew his fingers away from my wetness, and I lay there panting.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and when the heat of his whisper touched the wetness between my legs, it sent a shiver of delight through me. He allowed his tongue to slowly travel up the inner thigh of my right leg, but stopped short of my throbbing center.

“Edmund,” I whispered.

“Yes, my love?”

“Please, you are torturing me.”

“Nay, my love, I am pleasuring you. Have patience.”

“I wish to give you pleasure.”

“You will, my sweet, but your pleasure before mine.”

He ran his tongue up the length of my inner thigh and blew a soft breath against my nub, but did not touch me. He placed his soft wet lips everywhere but where I yearned to feel them, where I most wanted to feel them. His warm hand cupped my bum, and he drew me closer. He slid his tongue quickly over my throbbing nub, just barely touching it, and I thought I would explode. His kisses ran again down my thigh. His fingers played in the damp hair between my legs, but he did not touch the folds of my womanhood. Finally, he ran one finger along the wetness and slid it deep into me. A soft moan slipped from me. His tongue ran up along my thigh, and I could feel his hot breath against my womanhood.

I thought I would go mad with need when finally he allowed the tip of his tongue to swirl around my nub all the while sliding his finger into my sheath. I looked down to the source of my pleasure and found him gazing up at me, watching the erotic ecstasy play out across my face.

I cried out in pleasure as he gently sucked and nipped at my throbbing bud. I was thrashing with need, when he continued to run his tongue along my slick folds and circle and gently suck at my nub. His fingers moved faster as did his tongue. I moved my hips in time with him, praying he would never stop. My heart thundered in my ears, and I screamed as my body quivered in release. But when my release came, he covered my wetness with his mouth to drink of my essence.

He slowly slid his body up the length of mine. He rested cradled between my legs yet held himself above me. I felt the length of his hard shaft rubbing against my inner thigh, yet he held himself back and did not allow himself to enter me.

He planted warm wet kisses along my breast and gently sucked one nipple into his mouth. Releasing it, he exhaled softly, the gentle breath causing my nipple to tighten and driving wet heat to the center of my womanhood.

He allowed the tip of his rock hard shaft to rub into the folds of my wetness. But when I lifted my hips to drive him into me, he pulled back.

“Patience, love.” he murmured, and he planted more wet kisses along my neck on his way back to my lips.

He ran his tongue over my lips and slowly drew my lower lip into his mouth, then my upper lip as he rubbed the tip of his manhood against my bud. I drew my legs up around his waist, yet he still held himself away from me.

He kissed me then, slowly, his tongue exploring the depths of my mouth. One hand caressed a breast as he rolled his palm over my hard nipple.

Frantic with need, I ran my hands down between our bodies. I felt I had to touch him or I would burst. My fingers wrapped around his hard shaft. Applying gentle pressure, I stroked him. He pressed forward, rubbing my nub with the tip while I stroked him. He groaned. I raised my hips to draw him into me, but again he pulled back. I was drowning in a sea of pleasure.

I placed my finger on the sensitive area beneath his balls and rubbed gently. He groaned again with pleasure. Moving my hand back to his shaft, I placed my fingers around him with slightly more pressure and stroked him. Pulling him toward me, I rubbed the head of his manhood against my bud.

A fierce growl rumbled from his chest and in the next instant he was inside of me. Deep inside. Thrusting in and out of me, hard and fast. I kept my fingers around his shaft, now wet and slick from my essence. He was moving like a wild animal, possessed with a passion I have never thought existed. And I, also possessed by the same wild passion, moved with him.

Together our hearts thundered. Our breath was raspy and quickened. We were climbing a mountain of ecstasy and we both cried out when we reached the apex of our climax, together. I felt as if I had no bones left in my body and I was floating on air laying there beneath him. He kissed me gently, tenderly, raining kisses along my neck, my cheeks, and my eyes. He gathered me into his arms and rolling to his side, he held me close, stroking my back and cradled me to him.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“And I love you.”

“Catherine, I shall spend the remainder of my days loving you and giving you pleasure,” he whispered.

“Is that a promise, Your Grace?”

“Aye.”

“Is there a pirate in my bed?” I giggled.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same question, for only a wild female pirate could love like that,” he replied, holding me tenderly in his arms and nuzzled my hair.

“Perhaps I shall have to hold you ransom,” I teased.

“You already do,” he whispered.

And as I lay there in his arms, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking, I knew I was the one who had claimed the ransom. The ransom paid willingly and completely by this man who held me so tenderly, the ransom paid to me by my pirate husband ... his heart.